


Day 11. Bottle

by Munnin



Series: Fictober [11]
Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Neurodiverse Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-11
Updated: 2018-10-11
Packaged: 2019-07-29 02:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Munnin/pseuds/Munnin
Summary: Skate knows he's a little different.





	Day 11. Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Red Mist Squad are characters created by Joe Hogan for the [The Siren of Dathomir](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C3z0kyf53Ds) and [Panic Over Muunilinst](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I3-_EnhMEDE). Stolen, run away with, and abused with his permission.

Skate was aware he wasn’t like his brother clones. The Specialist Pilot Instinct Cognition Enhancement program he’d been a part of had seen to that. Spicers, as they were known, were put through a program that enhance neurological skills, intending to create better pilots. 

Rather than increasing their reflexes and twitch-speed, the neural alterations and their intensive training focused on cognitive reasoning. This served to intensify their spatial awareness, their four-dimensional problem-solving skills, their ability to calculate probabilities and vectors. 

But clones weren’t droids. You couldn’t simply tweak a setting and expect everything else to work the same as before. 

Spicer pilots could analyse situations and options up to four times faster under combat conditions than the average trooper. But the majority were unable to maintain equilibrium outside high functioning situations. 

Many developed behaviours associated with obsessive compulsive disorders. Some suffered neurohormonal imbalances that made them overtly aggressive. Others withdrew into themselves, unable to connect with others. 

The majority of Spicer pilots washed out, nulled out, or were _’removed for further study’_. 

Only a handful of the original hundred remained stable enough for active duty. Including Skate. 

When Fordo requisitioned Skate for Red Mist, he made it clear that Skate would be an asset to the squad, and that Skate’s eccentricities would be accommodated. 

To Skate, that was a greatest kindness than he expected. He had failed to assimilate into two previous teams and was borderline neurotic that he would be nulled out any day.

Fordo had built a squad from misfits and made them work. Skate had never felt more a part of a family than with Red Mist. 

But even with them, he was aware of his differences. 

He didn’t like intoxicants very much so he couldn’t join in with drinking contests with the others. And the games the Recons gravitated to just frustrated him. There were ways to play that were efficient and more likely to win, but that wasn’t the way they played. They played messy and frenetic in ways that gave Skate a headache. 

Skate understood the importance of spending some of his downtime with his squad. Even if he’d rather have been working on the ship, making modifications and upgrades, going over astrogation updates.

But he also understood, at least on a cognitive level, that it was unhealthy for him to be working constantly. They didn’t get many breaks, but when they did Fordo always made sure they made the most of them. 

And his squad made sure he enjoyed himself too. Not by pressuring him to join in with them, but by understanding when he couldn’t. 

Crispy came back to the table at 79’s with a large tray of drinks. He’d lost a bet so the first round was on him. “Alderaan ale for Linc, Ridley, and Rezz.” He passed the foaming mugs around. “Corellian brandy for Jat, Wrathor, and Gleeb. Port in a Storm for Fernie, cause seriously, there is something wrong with you.”

Crispy lifted his own glass off the tray. It swirled ominously, like a maelstrom in a glass. He set it down with great care, as if he half expected it to explode before handing Skate his glass.

“What’s that?” Jat asked, leaning in as Skate took the glass of something sparkling and clear.

Crispy scowled at his glass. “Reactor Core.” 

“Not you, mynock breath!” Jat glared at Crispy. “I know what you’re drinking. I was there when you lost that bet, remember? I meant Skate’s.” He cocked his head at his pilot. “You’re not usually one to drink.”

Skate shrugged, grateful for Jat’s recognition of his preference. It helped that they never pushed him to drink the hard stuff with them. “It’s called Glowwine. The captain recommended it. It’s not an intoxicant. It releases a small rush of endorphins. It’s… pleasant.” It wasn’t something Skate was always very good at expressing. The things he enjoyed, the things that made him feel good weren’t always the same as everyone else. Something he was self-conscious about. 

Crispy raised an eyebrow. “Huh. That sounds really good. I’ll have to try some. After I get through this.” He looked back at the roiling grey green mess in his glass.

Skate relaxed a little, leaning back in his seat and sipping his Glowwine. It made him feel warm, comfortable in his own skin. Like he never had to worry about being judged for being different. At least not by the people who cared about him. 

He found himself laughing along as Crispy downed the weird brew, coughing and spluttering. 

Fordo watched from the bar, talking with Rex in low tones. It was a relief to see his highly-strung pilot relaxing. He made a mental note to ask the owner of 79’s to keep a bottle of Glowwine behind the bar. All of his troopers deserved to be able to enjoy themselves, no matter what they needed.

**Author's Note:**

> Josh, the best beta ever.


End file.
